


Say it Again

by Pennstram



Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, Desperate Dean Winchester, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Recreational Drug Use, bend-me-shape-me's SPN Advent Calendar 2020, latent suicidal tendencies, love sick Castiel, who got fluff in my angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennstram/pseuds/Pennstram
Summary: “What are you still doing up?” There was static on the other end of the walkie talkie and Dean wanted to throw the damn thing at the wall.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse Castiel/Endverse Dean Winchester
Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041642
Comments: 1
Kudos: 90





	Say it Again

**Author's Note:**

> Day Seven for the SPNAdventCalendar2020! That counts as a phone call right? I think so.  
> Seven: Phone calls and late night texts

Cas couldn’t sleep. It was cold and the wind made all of the window panes creak. And he was lonely. He knew it was stupid, it was his own fault Dean wasn’t there. He told the other man he didn’t want to see him, and Dean, being the ever considerate leader, had stormed out. Yelling about how he’ll just go warm Lizzie or Amanda or Nathan’s bed instead. 

At the time Cas had been too angry and worked up to care. They’d just returned from a scouting mission. A mission that Dean refused to listen to Cas’s advice to turn back and regroup. A mission that left three dead and more injured. 

Now though? With the frozen air drifting through the off kilter door and the echoing howl of the wind Cas let himself think of it. Of Dean leaving him behind. Of Dean crawling into someone else’s bed, giving them the love Cas so desperately craved. The thought made him sick. 

He wasn’t the best company anymore. He knew it, of course he knew it. He just thought that Dean understood him better than that. He thought they had reached an agreement. He thought— but apparently not. 

Reaching over the bed, Cas dug around under the mattress blindly. If Dean was allowed to break their promise, then so was he. If Dean was allowed to go sleep around again, Cas was allowed his Vicodin. His hand made contact with the small pill bottle and he smiled ruefully. 

Popping the top off he dumped four on to his palm and stared at them. It’d been so long. He’d done so well, weaning himself off of them. For Dean. Always for Dean. His close brush with death one night on an accidental overdose made the tension between Dean and him snap. 

The following days and weeks and months were saturated with desperation and fear and it had made Cas nauseous. He’d been doted on like a lover. Like he was something more. Like he mattered to the hunter. He’d promised to help him. To stay by his side, if only Cas would try. 

He’d said he couldn’t lose him. But Cas… Cas needed to feel. 

He craved that attention Dean had given him. He needed it like the air in his lungs. He’d promised, but Dean wasn’t here, and Cas needed to feel something again. 

Dean had never liked Cas’s mounting drug addictions. So naturally, Cas made a point to rub it in his face every time they had an argument. It gave him a sick sense of pleasure to see his partner’s face twist in disgust. It reminded him he still had power over something. Though at the same time, Cas never liked Dean running off after anyone in camp willing to spread their legs for him. 

Unfortunately, the two usually came hand in hand. His fingers trembled as Cas folded them over the pills and let out a shaky sigh. Closing his eyes he tipped his hand over and dumped them on the floor, the almost empty bottle following with a muted clack. The truth of it all was, he was tired. 

He was tired of this stupid power grab. He was tired of seeing who could push the other further. He was tired, and cold, and lonely. 

He reached for the weed instead as tears started streaking his face.  
~~ 

The continued beeping from beside his head had Dean scowling. Cracking his eyes open he glanced out the window, aside from the bright snow building up on the glass it was still dark. The beeping continued and he groaned as he pushed the blanket down enough to reach over to the side table. 

Grabbing the beaten up electronic he jabbed the button on the side to make the sound stop. Belatedly he hoped Chuck hadn’t heard the noise. He knew the other had no qualms hosting the camp leader, but he wasn’t so sure he’d appreciate being woken up. Again. 

Bringing it up to his mouth, Dean pressed the button down and hissed quietly, _“What are you still doing up?”_ There was static on the other end of the walkie talkie and Dean wanted to throw the damn thing at the wall. It was the middle of the night. What on Earth could be so important that Cas needed to buzz him at that instant?

What could be so damn important that he’d call on Dean not even hours after their spat. Silence met him and he could feel his anger mounting. So he’d incessantly buzzed Dean, in the middle of the night, just to ghost him again? Who the fuck did Cas think he was? He was done with these games. He was sick and tired of the bullshit. 

_“What the fuck did you want, Cas. Some of us normal people are trying to sleep.”_ The sharp edge of the button dug into his thumb as he pried it back up after releasing it. He’d have to have someone take a look at it soon. Especially if this is how Cas wanted to communicate with him now. There was a crackle as the static disappeared signaling the other end of the line came to life.  
"  
Then Cas’s gravely voice seeped through, quiet and hesitant in Chuck’s silent cabin. _“Nothing I just—"_ There was a sharp inhale and Dean froze at the slight watery sound, the forced out breath, _“I missed you.”_ The line took a moment to disconnect and in that split second Dean heard it. The sound of pills shaking in a bottle. 

Shit. Shit shit shit. Dean shot up from his half laying down position and instantly all thoughts of sleep vanished. _“Cas? Hey, hey hey hey, Cas what’s up? What’s wrong?”_ He was almost afraid the walkie talkie would snap in half with the force of the hold he had on it. He didn’t care if he broke it though. He didn’t care that his fingers were starting to ache. He didn’t care that his hands were shaking. 

He didn’t care, because Cas had gone silent on the other end. 

Springing from the couch Dean grabbed his shoes and shoved his feet in them carelessly. _“Cas? Cas, Angel, talk to me.”_ More empty static and Dean could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Shit. Shit fucking shit. _“Angel— don’t do it. Please, Cas, please—"_

He was throwing his coat on when he heard the distinct click again and a rush of relief washed over him. It froze in his chest the second Cas spoke, his voice was rougher now and faded out quickly, _“I’m so sorry… so sorry.”_ The line didn’t disconnect and Dean heard a choked back sob. 

Flinging the door open Dean took off down the path that led to his and Cas’s shared cabin. Pressing the walkie talkie to his lips he pressed the button to override the other line. _“Talk to me, Angel. Talk to me, I’m right here, Cas. I’m right here.”_

 _“I love you, Dean.”_ It was barely a whisper and there was something… off about the way he said it. Then the line went staticy again and Dean swore under his breath. 

_“Cas? Castiel, baby, I love you, too. Okay? I know you can hear me. I’m on my way. I’m on my way home to you. Hold on for me, Angel. I’m almost there.”_ He could just make out the cabin through the still falling snow and his stomach dropped out as he realized there was a dark shape slumped on the porch steps. 

Fuck. Cas. Without a thought, Dean dropped the walkie and pushed himself to go faster. The snow clouded his vision and made running difficult but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t slow down, because that was Cas. That was Cas and he wasn’t moving and Dean felt his heart seize up. “Cas!” 

The wind was picking up again by the time he reached Cas’s limp form. His eyes were closed, and his skin was bright red and icy, “Cas? Cas, please— Cas you gotta—“ He cut himself off as he hauled the former Angel into his arms and cradled him to his chest. “It’s okay, Angel. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here now.”  
~~

The first thing he became aware of was the pounding in his head as consciousness slowly started to take over. The second, was the heat along his side, curling over him almost protectively. Cas forced his eyes to open against the searing light, only to shut them again with a groan. 

The small sound was enough to make the warmth pressed against him jerk awake as well. In the next second there were hands pressed against his cheeks, forcing his head back to look up. Frantic green eyes looked back and he felt his brows draw together in confusion. 

“Thought you were at Lizzie’s.” He murmured, voice dipping off slightly because he was still so tired. Why was he so tired? Dean’s right hand slipped to cup the back of his head as he pulled Cas forward to tuck his head underneath his chin. 

“Fuck.” Dean huffed, voice wavering to match his trembling hands. “Fuck.” He repeated louder and Cas almost wished he could see Dean’s expression but he was held firm, tucked up close to Dean’s neck. “Fuck, baby, no. I wasn’t— I didn’t— I went to Chuck’s.”

“Chuck’s?” But that wasn’t right. Dean had left him. He’d broken his promise and went to someone else. He’d… hadn’t he? Wasn’t that how he’d justified the— fuck. No wonder that frantic look was so familiar. Dean thought he’d taken them again. He thought-- “Didn’t do it.” 

It was mumbled out and Cas frowned in frustration. Why was he so damn tired still? He needed to talk to Dean. He needed him to hear it he needed—

“I know you didn’t, Angel. I know you didn’t. I saw them on the floor. I’m so proud of you.” Dean whispered almost reverently into his hair as he combed his fingers through it. “So proud of you.”

He could feel his eyelids growing heavier by the second. What was wrong with him? There was no way he’d smoked enough to cause this, even if he had blown through his whole stock pile he shouldn’t have felt like this. He’d been so lonely and hurt and cold and it’d helped so much so why—

Cold. The memory of stepping outside, of sinking into the snow to try and numb the pain. It’d been such a stupid decision but Dean hadn’t been there to tell him not too. He hadn’t been there and it’d helped and— “‘m sorry…”

And Dean just held him tighter. Breathed him in longer. Brushed his thumb across his cheek like he was something precious to behold. “I love you, Castiel.” There was something in the way he murmured the words. In the way he let Cas’s full name roll off his tongue like he still deserved the angelic designation. Like he used too, before Cas fell. Before he became human. 

Cas felt his heart crack open at the sound. “Say it again?” He begged softly, hoping Dean understood what he actually meant because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to voice it. He let his eyes fall shut as he felt Dean nod above him. 

“I’m here, Castiel. Always.”


End file.
